An Iconic Bridge, A Red Light Hotel and a Visit to the Gents: Hull as You Have Never Seen it Before

That is what I really like about Hull, it isn’t just the architecture, the cobbly charm of the old town and the romantic street names, it’s that the place is so completely of itself-it’s a fascinating city, on the road to nowhere and at the end of the line-it’s isolated and self contained without being insular or unwelcoming. Alexei Sayle

Before we arrived in the city we stopped to find a good place to photograph the iconic Humber Bridge. By chance we took a wrong turn and found ourselves in the car park of the Humber Bridge Hotel. We could see the bridge but it wasn’t obvious how we could walk to it. As we wandered around the car park I spotted a small gap in the hedge with steps leading up to a walkway. At the top we had an uninterrupted view of the huge structure. We carried our gear for half a mile or so until we could get underneath the bridge and set up our tripods. Walkers stopped to chat and one couple couldn’t understand why we would want to visit Hull. “It’s no city of culture that’s for sure!” We smiled and carried on with our long exposures. On their way back they stopped again and said they both felt very guilty about their negative comments and instead told us about some of the nicer places to visit.

We’d been told we’d booked a dodgy hotel before we left. Hotels were fully booked in Hull on the dates we wanted to visit so we had no choice. What we hadn’t realised though, was just how bad it was going to be. Next to the Merchant Seaman’s Club, where drunken sailors roll in and out of taxis all day and most of the night, it stands like a hideous pink tower block on the corner of a busy road. A red light in the corner of the lounge area gave us cause for concern immediately, as well as the noisy takeaway extractor fans at the back of the hotel. The police were called twice while we were there and I was woken at 4.30 one morning by a woman yelling expletives. A man was later ejected from the corridor. Noise is one thing but poor food is unforgivable. Diane is not a vegetarian by choice, she is allergic to meat so as we approached the breakfast counter the following morning we were looking forward to a meaty and a veggie full English. The only edible food in sight was a fresh croissant! The scrambled eggs were laced with black streaks and the bacon was so solid I could have replaced the soles of my walking boots with it.

Undeterred and rather hungry we set off with our cameras at the ready. A local photographer had made recommendations on his blog regarding possible places to explore, one such place was the victorian toilets near the newly developed quay. Many of the fitments are original and despite the many strange looks from other women, we removed all the modern additions we could, before taking a number of photographs. Excited by what we had found we both thought it would be great to explore the gents too. With that in mind, I approached a man with a Hull City Council high vis jacket. Initially he shook his head and said, “No that’s not possible I’m afraid the men wouldn’t like it. ” I suggested he could stand outside and stop them coming in for five minutes while we took some pictures and finally after a few more ‘pleases’ he agreed. We were not disappointed. I loved the original row of urinals and the pretty cisterns but best of all was the one huge victorian sink. It was an original with brand new shiny pipework. We both noticed how pristine it was compared to the sinks in the ladies. As we hurriedly took photographs we were suddenly joined by the most confused looking man I have ever seen. I think he must have thought he was dreaming or that he had walked into the wrong toilet. Initially he was speechless as I explained what we were doing. Gradually a smile crept across his face as he said it was the first time he had ever encountered two blonde women in the gents loo!

After our dreadful breakfast experience we set off early the next morning to find a more suitable eatery. Settling on a rather pretty cafe near the quay we finally ordered our full meat and veggie English breakfasts. They arrived reasonably swiftly but Diane’s veggie version looked odd to me. Laid across the whole plate was a huge rasher of bacon.

She looked at the waitress and asked, “Is this bacon?”
“Yes” said the waitress smiling.
“But I’m a vegetarian.”
“Yes you said,” replied the waitress.
“I don’t eat bacon!”
“Well you should have said if you wanted something removed,” said the waitress quite firmly.
“I am allergic to meat.”

“So do you want it cooked again?

“Yes please unless you want to take me to A and E!”

We looked at each other in disbelief and couldn’t help giggling. Finally the veggie version arrived minus the bacon but I had long since finished mine!

We spent the next two days exploring The Deep and art exhibitions as well as enjoying meals at the Minerva where they have the smallest pub room in Britain. We were amused by the numerous funny signs around the city and the sunsets were glorious. We began to love the quay with its bobbing boats and eateries. On one day a heavy rain storm provided us with an opportunity to take some street shots. People were friendly and in all the exhibitions they tried their hardest to engage the visitors.

On our final day we took the train to Beverley. The town’s resemblance to Saffron Walden did not go unnoticed but we didn’t take any photographs as we were sent on a long walk to find a black statue by a well meaning bar lady. It involved asking several locals for directions and walking until we were too tired and hot to do anything other than get back on the train. We never did find the statue.

I think it’s fair to say that the city of culture label has come a little early for Hull. Those living there seemed as surprised at the title as we were. However the old town is special and as a photographer you seek out your own personal culture. I will remember the beauty of those old toilets for many years to come.